


As It Should Be

by DestielTheShipOfDreams



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Castiel & Claire Novak Friendship, Eileen Leahy Lives, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Happy Ending, Implied Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Multi, Series Finale, broment, dream ending, self-sacrificing idiots, the actual plot is vague at best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-29 18:58:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12637179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestielTheShipOfDreams/pseuds/DestielTheShipOfDreams
Summary: The Winchesters, hunting and fighting and saving, together and happy. All three of them. As it should be.Just a little daydream about how the finale could vaguely, roughly look if we got canon destiel and hunter!Cas at some point beforehand and if Eileen was brought back from her unjust death. Jack doesn't exist because I wrote this a while back and couldn't be bothered altering it to include him. I do love Jack though <3





	As It Should Be

The portal is underwhelming from a distance; a dull and murky swirl of lightning flashes and vague smoke. The two figures, crouching hidden on a low rise, eye it with trepidation. It’s with even more trepidation that they eye the angels guarding it, sharp gazes scanning the landscape, blades glinting in the weak sunlight.

 

“There are seven of them,” Cas murmurs, gravelly voice weary and resigned.

 

“Yeah, I can count,” grumbles Dean.

 

“There are seven of them, and two of us.”

 

Dean frowns down at the scene before them. “Still OK with doin’ the maths myself, man.”

 

He ducks down and leans back against the rock they’re sheltered behind, huffing with frustration. Cas lowers himself next to him, glancing sideways at the human.

 

“What do you want to do?” he asks calmly, despite the worry in his eyes. Dean grimaces, shaking his head, scrubbing a hand over his face.

 

“We gotta try, Cas.”

 

“Dean,” says the angel lowly, scooting closer. “It’s suicide. They’re powerful, and we’re practically defenseless. We have one weapon between us, my powers are almost non-existent-”

 

“Well, what are you suggesting we do?” demands the hunter, turning to meet Cas’s eyes with a scowl. “Did I ever say that breaking into Heaven was a good idea? No. But it’s the only one we got. Sam’s out of action, the world is in danger for like the zillionth time… this is what we do, man. We save people, and right now, that means running into a whole gang of angels with one weapon between us.”

 

Cas closes his eyes and sighs. “Yes, but do you even have a plan? There’s only a point to this if we have some sort of chance of getting through. Otherwise it’s just a gesture. Martyrdom.”

 

“Yeah, I have a plan,” Dean replies, rolling his eyes. He shifts to face the angel fully. “Oldie but a goodie. I distract ‘em, you run in from behind with the angel blade. Gank as many of ‘em as you can. Pretty solid, huh?”

 

He’s going for humour, but Cas is having none of it. His mouth sets and his brow furrows. “You want to be bait? They’ll slaughter you. I can’t kill all seven before one of them gets to you.”

 

Dean looks away. “You can try. You’re still pretty badass even without your powers.”

 

“I’m touched by your faith in me, Dean, but we both know that I can’t do what you’re asking. This isn’t about eliminating the angels down there and getting through safely. You want to sacrifice yourself so that I can get to the portal.”

 

Dean points at Cas, almost hitting him on the nose. “Hey, now that’s a good plan.”

 

Cas’s eyes flash with anger; he grabs Dean’s wrist and pulls the offending finger out of his face, yanking the human closer. “No. It isn’t. You can’t expect me to-”

 

“Actually, yeah, I can,” Dean interrupts sharply. His gaze bores into the angel’s. “This isn’t about me or you. This is about all the people who are gonna suffer if one of us doesn’t get through that stupid portal and stop what’s happening up there. That’s the number one priority.”

 

Cas looks a little panicked now, stubbornness clear in the tension of his jaw. He lets go of Dean’s wrist and grips his shoulder instead, giving him a little shake. “You know perfectly well what my number one priority is!”

 

His voice is thick with emotion, with denial of the situation. He knows that Dean is going to win this argument, and he hates it. They stare at each other for several seconds until Cas drops his gaze, defeat clear on his face. He sags forward a little, putting some weight into his hand on Dean’s shoulder. The hunter watches him, sadness and deep affection in his verdant eyes.

 

“Cas,” he murmurs gently. He reaches out and cups the angel’s face, coaxing him back up to meet his gaze. “It might all turn out OK. Like I said, you’re pretty badass. But if it doesn’t, don’t do the whole self-hating spiral of guilt thing, OK? This is my choice, you haven’t let me down or whatever. You just get the job done for me. Please.”

 

There aren’t quite tears in Cas’s eyes, but he looks close to it. He shakes his head minutely. “Let me be the bait. You take the angel blade and-”

 

“No,” says Dean emphatically, raising his other hand and holding Cas’s face steady for him to glare at. “No way. You have a much better chance than me of getting through to that portal.”

 

Cas looks mutinous and upset between Dean’s calloused palms. “You don’t- you can’t just- you made me watch you martyr yourself once before, and I stood by then, but now things are- it’s different, and I can’t, Dean-”

 

“I know,” hushes the hunter, solemn and sad. “Trust me… I know.”

 

Cas huffs angrily and, grabbing the front of Dean’s shirt, surges forward to kiss him. It’s rage-filled and bruising, desperate. Dean’s hands hover in the air where he was touching Cas, his response so belated that he barely kisses back before Cas breaks away and rests his forehead against the human’s. His breathing is unsteady, his face creased with distress. Dean settles his hands on Cas’s shoulders and pauses for a moment, eyes closed and lips parted, before he gently pushes the angel back.

 

“We going then?” he asks gruffly, quietly, peering into Cas’s eyes. He gets a hard look and a short nod in return. Cas grabs Dean’s hand and pulls him along behind him as he half-crouches, half-runs down the back of the hill they’re on.

 

*

 

They confirm their haphazard, pitifully simple plan to each other in a few whispers and then they separate with barely a backwards glance, both accustomed to switching it all off to get the job done. Cas loops around, darting from one sparse cover to the next; Dean gives him a decent amount of time and then makes his move.

 

His ‘move’ is simply sprinting into the open, yelling a wordless war cry as he hurtles towards the portal. The angels guarding it leap into action, running to meet him. Only two remain posted on either side of the portal, tense and ready. Dean feels a thrill of triumph. Only two. Cas can handle two just fine. Cas is a goddamn badass.

 

He ducks and weaves as the first three angels reach him, but the fourth manages to snag his arm, yanking him back and tossing him to the ground. All five angels gather around him, faces cold as they glare down at him.

 

“Pathetic,” one of them snarls. Dean grins up at her, gives her a wink. She scowls.

 

There’s a shout from near the portal and everyone turns to look. Cas has already killed one angel and within moments, the other one lies dead at his feet. The angels surrounding Dean gives various cries of rage and start towards him; Dean trips one and, scrambling to his feet, tackles another.

 

“Cas, go!” he screams, staggering to his feet. Dean sees that the angel he tackled dropped his silver blade; he scoops it up just in time to defend himself against the angel he tripped. Cas is dithering, the absolute idiot, only fifteen feet away from the portal but still watching Dean with anguished eyes. One of the angels reaches him and he looks away to fight her, as Dean does the same with the guard attacking him. He’s furious that Cas didn’t just jump into the portal without a second glance, but not very surprised. Dean ducks and swerves and, with more luck than skill, finds an opening to slide his blade home between his opponent’s ribs. 

 

Another glance at Cas shows him being backed away from the portal, blade flashing and whirling as he fends off two angels at once-

 

Pain. Deep, terrifying pain in Dean’s side, heat, wet, agony, he hits the ground-

 

“Dean!” he hears, Cas’s cry far away in his ringing ears. Dean chokes, gasps, hands scrabbling at the blood-soaked material of his shirt. The angel who stabbed him stands over him, blocking out the meagre sun, breathing heavy and regarding him with contempt.

 

“You can watch the traitor die,” he hisses, Dean’s blood dripping scarlet from his weapon. Dean pulls in a shuddering breath, pain blurring his vision as he watches the guard turn and run over to where Cas has injured one of his opponents but is still fighting both of them. Dean has felt this before, this sense of draining, dwindling away. He’s dying. He’s watching Cas try to win a fight against three, and he’s dying, and there’s nothing he can do.

 

“Cas…” he rasps, eyes half-lidded. He tries to focus on his angel, but it’s all so fuzzy now. He thinks of Sammy, feels a wave of gratitude that he was sidelined for this, that he doesn’t have to die here today.

 

The weakness drags him down, and his eyes slip shut.

 

The next thing he’s aware of is a familiar hand cupping his cheek, trembling on his skin. He groans, an ache in his bones and a thick fog slowing his thoughts and movements. His shirt is wet and warm on his side, the flesh there bruised and tender. He feels horrible.

 

“Dean,” comes a deep, scratched up mess of a voice, far away yet close by at the same time. Dean knows that voice, and he knows that it’s good. He forces his eyes open, the need to respond to that voice pushing him past the pain and the lethargy.

 

Cas’s pale face swims into focus above him. The angel looks abysmal, grey-tinged skin and bloodshot eyes, a bruise colouring up one side of his face. He looks like he’s about to pass out, or worse. Dean squints up at him.

 

“Cas?” he mumbles, wincing. Cas nods, breathing fast and shallow.

 

“Yeah,” he whispers. “I got you back. No martyring yourself today, Dean.”

 

He manages a tired smile and Dean smiles back, although his brain is under-performing too much for humour. He thinks he understands what’s happened. Dean was dying. Cas was fighting. Cas won his fight and healed Dean. Now Dean is no longer dying, although it was a shoddy healing to say the least. He feels like he’s been kicked repeatedly in the side.

 

He struggles into a sitting position anyway, Cas’s tugging on his arm alarmingly weak and ineffectual. Normally Cas could lift Dean’s weight one-handed. Dean slumps forward once he’s sitting up, frowning and blinking at the angel by his side.

 

“You saved me. You… that can’t have been good for you, man. You look like crap.”

 

“Thanks,” huffs Cas, although his eyes slip shut and he sways a little where he sits. “I had to, Dean. And it worked, maybe not well, but… you’ll be alright. I just need… rest.”

 

Cas stops, draws in a breath, opens his eyes slightly. The blue is dull and dazed. “Have to go through the portal, fix it all. Have to…”

 

Dean feels a little stronger as he thinks about what still needs to be done. He can do it. He has to. He drags himself onto his knees and reaches out to steady Cas, holding his shoulders firmly.

 

“OK, Cas,” he says as firmly as he can muster. “You got me this far. You need to recover now. Your grace is burnt out, man, give it time. Don’t try and follow me. OK?”

 

Cas is already out of it, eyes shut and head lolling. Dean groans and scrambles to his feet, dragging Cas with a gargantuan effort over to a rock not far away. He props the angel up, stroking a hand fondly through his hair once.

 

“Wait here for me,” he says aloud, unnecessarily. Then he grabs Cas’s angel blade, shakes off the last of the dizziness from the minimal healing, and turns to the portal.

 

Time to be a badass.

 

*

 

It’s done. Somehow, all three of the Winchesters fought and almost died and then lived to keep fighting. Dean still can’t believe it; between Cas being left unconscious in enemy territory halfway through the mission, and Sam crashing in to save the day at the last minute despite already being half-dead… Dean was sure that he’d lose one or both of them. But they pulled through. And thanks to luck and the tenacity of Cas’s grace, so did Dean.

 

The hunter parks the Impala in some deserted lookout in the hills a few hours from the bunker. Sam needed to piss, otherwise they wouldn’t have stopped. Dean watches Cas dozing in the rear view mirror as he waits for his little brother to get back from his stroll in the trees. The angel looks characteristically tired but a lot less ill than he appeared after healing Dean.

 

Cas’s phone starts buzzing, making both occupants of the car jump. He fumbles to get it out of his jeans pocket, eyes periwinkle in the rich afternoon light haloed around his head. The more human he gets, the more Dean sees the angel in him. Nowadays, dressed in soft flannels and worn denim, constantly looking in need of a nap with ever-deepening wrinkles and bags around his eyes… Dean can almost see his wings, curled protectively around him and his tattered grace. He’s beautiful.

 

“Claire?” Cas croaks into the phone after checking the caller. He clears his throat, tries again. “Claire, hi.”

 

He listens for a beat and then nods. “Yes, we’re all fine. It- yes, it worked. What was that? I didn’t- oh, yes, of course…”

 

He meets Dean’s gaze in the rear view, shoots him a small smile as he opens the door and climbs out, phone pressed to his ear. “No, Claire, I would like to catch up with you too. I’m glad you called-”

 

The door shuts and Dean chuckles to himself before swinging open his own door and clambering out too. He doesn’t follow Cas, who’s wandering aimlessly away, head ducked as he talks quietly. He leans against the Impala and waits for Sam.

 

It’s only about thirty seconds before the younger Winchester brother comes ambling out of the trees, squinting in the bright sunlight. Dean salutes lazily at him as he reaches the car.

 

“Takin’ a break?” Sam asks easily, leaning one hip against Baby, hands in his pockets. Dean shrugs.

 

“You needed to answer nature’s call, Cas has answered an actual call… may as well catch some rays. Savour being alive. You know.”

 

Sam grins, turning to rest on his back and tipping his head back to enjoy the gentle warmth on his skin. “Yeah, it’s nice.”

 

Dean nods, looking content. “We should do this properly. Take a vacation. We’ve earned it.”

 

Sam rolls his eyes. “You say that every time we almost die, Dean.”

 

“Yeah, well, let’s do it,” Dean argues. “Family beach trip. It’ll be fun, come on.”

 

Sam’s mouth twists, considering it. “You know a case will come up. Doesn’t matter where we go, there’ll be a ghost or a witch or a- a beach vampire or whatever.”

 

“So what?” Dean laughs. He nudges his brother with his shoulder, grinning up at him. “It’ll still be fun.”

 

Obviously warming to the idea, Sam beams up at the sun, eyes slipping shut. “You know what? Sounds damn good. The whole works. Beach resort, cocktails, volleyball…”

 

Dean snorts, shaking his head. “I dunno if I can picture Cas playing volleyball, man.”

 

Sam bites his lip, ducking his head shyly. “You know, Eileen used to be on her high school volleyball team. She told me.”

 

Smirking, Dean nudges Sam again. “Oh yeah?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Better bring her along then,” teases Dean, but the joy in his eyes is evident. He glances over at where Cas smiles softly into the phone, catches the angel’s eye. They blink warmly at each other before Cas turns away, still engrossed in his conversation with Claire. Dean, immensely satisfied with the idea of a family holiday and the promise of burgeoning happiness for his Sammy, turns his face up towards the sun. The Impala is a solid familiarity at his back, Cas’s voice a soothing rumble in the background. Dean’s arm brushes against his brother’s, next to him, today and always.

 

As it should be.


End file.
